


Untruth Or Dare

by Coffin Liqueur (HP_Lovecats)



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Ashley Brown/Chris Hartley Mention, Blood and Gore mention, Chris Hartley/Josh Washington Mention, Emily Davis/Jessica Riley Mention, F/F, F/M, Group Sex Fantasy, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, M/M, Mike Munroe/Matt Taylor Mention, Multi, Sam Giddings/Josh Washington Mention, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Language, Underage Drinking, violence mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HP_Lovecats/pseuds/Coffin%20Liqueur
Summary: In response to being asked a very personal question, Josh cooks up a lie; the truth may not be stranger than fiction, but all that means is it's hell of a lot lessfunnyand with hell of a lotmoreroom to worry about making things awkward.
Relationships: Everyone/Everyone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Untruth Or Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt a friend sent in re: an ask meme on Tumblr!

"Hey!" Mike laughs. "...We're all -- you know,  _ the guys _ , here, just... hangin' out..."

Josh rolls his eyes, leans further aside with his arm along the back of the couch to mask the roll of his eyes up 'n to a... thoughtful half-lidding out the window - granted, mouth turned to show a slice of teeth in... honest amusement.

At the end of his other arm, he clutches the neck of a now almost-drained whiskey bottle. In front o' that, his knee idly bounces.

He knows where this is going.

_ "Dude -- !" _ Chris forces out; Matt says nothing, and Josh figs he's probably gonna keep it that way, if he can help it.

The slice of teeth gets wider, longer.

"Look --  _ Josh! _ Josh knows what's up! He can play along...!"

The half-lidding gets heavier.

He  _ is  _ playin' along, he guesses. Trying to look all hip and cool and mysterious, because, y'know, Mike's right.

He also does, in fact, know what's up already because this's not the first time Mike's gotten wasted and headed down this not-so-dark, dark path.

"Josh -- "

Sure enough...

"Josh -- man, come on! What's your..." ...Mike restarts, scoffing to himself, vocally swaggering off of it into the shake and underburn of one hell of a cavalier laugh by a cavalier man. "...What's your deep, dark,  _ scandalous _ sexual fantasy, huh?"

"Mike," Matt says. (Scratch that last thought;  _ that's  _ the most he's gonna say.)

"Knowing you,  _ shit -- _ ...It's gotta be something crazy, right?"

The second "Mike" is Chris's.

Josh's grin has already spread even across his face; he feels it pushin' its way bigger and bigger up into the corners, half-abashedly wanting to laugh. Lifting his head, a super-slo-mo nod.

_ Ee-yup! Hhhyup -- we're... we’re goin’ there again... _

He hums up "'Mean..." His fingers tighten around the neck of the bottle and he flourishes it up 'n outward - a faint splashy and hollow and glassy slosh - with it, a puff of air through his teeth givin' way to a low quiver of laughter under spoken word. "...Bet you can already guess, my dude...!"

For not-the-first-time, he says this full-aware that he's friggin' stalling, and it makes 'im wanna laugh at himself for being such a dingus all the more. He knows they  _ can't  _ already guess. He knows that if they did anyway, like -- any shot in the dark they could take would be  _ “like him” _ , all right, but for the wrong reasons.

'Mean, not like he doesn’t encourage. Last time, according to himself, the thing was that he’s always wanted to film himself in a full (...he'd paused for, like... five, six secs here)  _ scarecrow  _ outfit goin' at some guy or gal chained to one of those wooden X-es, out in the middle of a field. Straight up crop-circle shit, except the crop circle was on fire.  _ Pyro alien scarecrow porno, dude. _ Mike had scoffed and giggled and asked him if he was serious, prob'ly not caring whether or not, in fact, he was; Chris had tried to look away and tried to keep a laugh nice and bitten back; Matt had coughed, while all the while, he’d said that  _ hell, yeah _ \- he was dead serious, broski. Would a guy say shit like that if he wasn’t, like -- spilling some serious guts?

...Speaking of - maybe that one was earlier.

Maybe the last time was actually the one where he asked ‘em if it’d be weird if he said he’s cranked one out a couple times to the thought of ending up victim to a horde of zombies. ‘S like a gory gangbang when you think about it the right way, _ y’know? No, gentlemen? You guys not too hot on getting  _ gone down on? _ Having ‘em lining up to, like -- slobber all over your meat...? _

...Pfffshh… that’d been a good bit - Chris swatting in the air with an incredulous _ “Bro,  _ **_what_ ** _ \-- ?” _ , Mike leaning back in containing his snickering ‘n asking what the hell all those horror movies’ve actually done to his brain. He bets he woulda seen Matt fuckin’ blushing with laughter, too, if the dude hadn’t been doing such a grade-A job keeping his face covered.

...His smile slackens on one end.

He don’t got no clue how to top either of those yet, but… maybe a little extra grease for the wheels will do the trick.

He puts a pin in that smile so it’s not hanging so loose; passes it as a nice neat smirk-for-the-cameras into the center of the living room. His eyes dart purposefully between Mike’s grin and raised eyebrow, Chris slouched forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands fidgeting together, Matt leaned back with his arm draped over the back of the couch not sure whether to let himself join the story-swapping ring this time or not.

Josh slowly swats his hand downward in the air a few times, letting his voice warm low and hearty in his throat. “A -- all right, guys -- you… You wanna know what’s really been getting… my juices flowing, lately…?”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward at a little… tickle of a prob’ly-sheepish laugh fringing the last few words of that sentence.

He pretends it didn’t happen and hopes they do, too, jumpin’ onto the next thing.

He throws back the bottle, lips sealing around the mouth with another glassy sound, and pretends that for just a sec, he’s not imagining that it’s Sam’s mouth instead, with one or both of ‘em coming in to…  _ steal some sugar _ , as they say in… wherever’s the  _ exact  _ place where people even say that.

Fading out the idea of that kiss cozily-yet-casually poppin’ loose before they lean together, also cozily, for a bit of R&R, respective party-drinks-of-choice hanging from each of their hands on standby for another swig. Neither of ‘em are wearing anything, and it makes his skin  _ burn  _ in a way that feels downright  _ therapeutic _ .

Also not wearing anything: Chris, on the other side of him, with whom he’s finally solved the since-middle-school-old mystery of what some good bro-on-bro tongue-kissing would actually feel like - would that imagining could, you know,  _ actually satisfy the actual curiosity _ \- and they don’t got enough time to linger on it and risk making a good-bro-thing weird, ‘cause he’s got a naked babe huddled up next to him, too, her name is Ash Brown, and it turns out that even past the dork chemistry, they do make one hell of a good-looking couple.

One that he’s gonna let those last dregs of nice hot whisky burn up the mental picture of, too.

A last gulp of oily droplets running down the inside of his mouth that makes for a hollow ringing sound, when he pulls the bottle away from himself. Not a slosh to be heard as he plunks it down by his hip, thumbing absently side-to-side over the mouth, and looks back out at the dudes with a glow behind his eyes and castin’ forward.

He can authentically rest into grinning, now; he can bluff this.

He’s not really seeing Chris naked, still.

The mental image of Matt and Mike kissing to make up, too, is blurring and fading - along with Em and Jess not too far off, too, still no clothes anywhere to be seen and that prick of interested will-they-won’t-they wonder if the duos are gonna put the water all the way under the bridge with a four-person quote-unquote  _ cuddle pile _ just nudgin’ and poised forward; he can laugh at the fact that he is a weak, weak man with some stupidly good-looking friends and let it pass.

It fades before that point of wondering which group of four would group which group of four - the cuddle pile or the cuddle pile, and leaves only a word.

Pile.

He takes it, shuts his eyes hard to see it in the stars behind ‘em, and focuses on what the further-stoked roaring of an alcohol fire in the back of his head is telling him.

Sucks and swallows a last trace of spice clinging to the roof and back of his mouth, lifts his hand in a “wait”-gesture, and draws out, “Aaaaaall right, dogs, get a load of this…”

He just barely opens his eyes again, glazed, somehow still figurin’ he doesn’t have to look at them for now.

Once again, he laughs at himself, and it bounces and vibrates underneath his opening.

“What if -- ...what if I said that… lately, I have been -- wet-dreamin’  _ nonstop,  _ to thinkin’ about... having sex in a pile of…”

Cans, is what eventually comes to him. Full ones, though. Mushroom soup comes to him next. He takes that and runs with it, too. Once again, he gets ‘em all scoffing, laughing, himself included.

Once again, as he leans back to rest, it takes on a slow, slow relishing in abashment.  _ Ohhh, Joshington, my man. My stupid, stupid man. _

_ Hey, Joshington - my options are make it weird or make it weird, right? _

_ Better I go the way the route that keeps it nothing but good fun…! _


End file.
